


Killer Gay Swans from Outer Space

by perpetuallycaffeinated



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Genderbending, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-11 11:58:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetuallycaffeinated/pseuds/perpetuallycaffeinated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killer Gay Swans from Outer Space have taken up living in Stark Tower without invitation and with malice of forethought. At least, that's what Tony tells himself when he's hiding from a pregnant Loki and an overly protective Thor. This is pure crack fic and I apologize for nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Is This Magic?

**Author's Note:**

> This is starting out PG-13, but I expect at least one pornographic bit, so I've gone ahead and made the rating reflect that so no one gets a nasty surprise.

Tony had seen super villains do a lot of strange things during a fight. Dr. Doom (or more accurately, creepy mechanical replicas of him) exploded into mangled heaps of circuitry and mad science on a regular basis. AIM’s main goal now seemed to be to determine how weird their plans could within the bounds of physics, and sometimes not even that. Loki, when you looked at the other players, was blessedly constant in his own mentally-unbalanced way. Sure, his methods of attack, motives, and physical appearance might change on a monthly basis, but whenever the team came face to face with him, Tony felt the situation shift into autopilot.  
  
 _Midgardian peasants blah blah daddy issues blah blah blah I hate Thor blah blah Thor Thor blah Daddy didn’t give me a hammer._  
  
Though Tony secretly thought a final take down would have to involve an graduate-level course in republican government and a strict therapy regimen, he had to admit Loki held himself like a true villain. Frp, his perfectly slicked hair to the ostentatious armor, the Avengers could always count on Thor’s little brother to deliver the full tilt diva.  
  
Yes, Tony had seen lot of strange things. But he sure as hell had never seen Loki stop in the middle of a tirade, stagger, and bend over to puke his guts out on the sidewalk.  
  
The trickster had been carousing around the NYC area for almost three weeks before the team managed to get him cornered. With all the Avengers pointing their respective weapons of choice at his head, Loki had, as usual, begun to promise their inevitable subjugation.  
  
“You hang to your hopes by a feeble thread, but one day soon you will realize better than to--”  
  
Loki stopped mid-sentence and visibly paled, proving to Tony once again that nothing was truly impossible. There was a moment of surprised silence from all present as Loki wobbled on his feet. Tony could have sworn he heard a voice behind him whisper “ _brother_?” but he didn’t turn around.  
  
One moment Loki was up, the next he was down on his knees with one hand holding his weight as he emptied the contents of his stomach out onto the pavement.  
  
“...Is this magic?” Tony managed to choke out. Loki raised his head to snap a rejoinder, but was immediately forced to lower it again as another wave of nausea overtook him. “I don’t think that this is magic. It doesn’t feel very magical, guys.”  
  
While Loki continued to retch and dry heave, Tony babbled. Clint, on the other hand, just shrugged and aimed at the base of Loki’s skull as he drew back on his bow.  
  
“No, friend.” Thor’s voice was calm, but brooked no argument as the man closed his hand around the shaft of Clint’s arrow. To the archer’s credit, he didn’t protest all that much--just a huff of annoyance as he lowered his weapon.  
  
“It could be a trick,” Natasha warned in a flat voice. She was still pointing her gun at Loki’s prone form, obviously adding her silent vote to Barton’s side. Thor ignored her warning, and Tony couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the god once again decided to risk exposing himself to Loki. The man had a huge weak spot; a huge, Loki shaped weak spot. As Thor knelt down down next to his brother’s prone form, Tony raised his hands, repulsors at the ready.  
  
Wonder of wonders, it didn’t seem to be one of Loki’s traps. Even when Thor put Mjolnir down, there was no change in Loki’s condition. The villain remained on his hands and knees in front of his brother, head bowed as he panted and spat on the pavement.  
  
Dammit, Tony cursed inwardly. Even without the hammer, Thor could easily smash the little shit’s head against the concrete and end this whole business for good. Hell, he could probably even just knock Loki out again if he wanted to go ahead and give that “Agsardian Justice” thing a spin again.  
  
Instead, Thor carefully wrapped his hands around Loki’s shoulders and helped him up onto his knees. Tony had to give the villain some credit. He managed to keep up a pissy glare very well for a man who was having a spot of sick wiped off of his chin.  
  
“What ails you, brother?” Thor murmured. Loki looked up at the question, but did not answer. The thunderer slid his hand along Loki’s jaw in an unmistakable gesture of concern. The other god scrunched his nose up (Tony could sympathize with that sour aftertaste of vomit, he really could) and spat on Thor’s breastplate.  
  
“ _You_ ail me,” he hissed. “You have wormed your way inside of me and now rot me from the inside out.”  
  
Thor’s face twisted into an expression of confusion. He ignored the streak of spittle sliding down his front, staring straight back into Loki’s eyes as though he might find some truth hidden amongst all the poison.  
  
“Any harm I have done to you of late has been to stop you from harming this realm in your madness, Loki. If you wish to--”  
  
Thor’s plea was cut short by a sharp burst of laughter. He was still unsteady on his knees, even with Thor their to steady him, but he managed to summon a derisive sneer.  
  
“You ail me,” he repeated. One of his hands briefly came up to smooth across his stomach. “And will continue to do so for some time. If you cannot comprehend why you are yet again the source of my suffering, perhaps you are even duller than I thought.”  
  
The gesture was possibly the least threatening thing Tony had ever seen Loki do. Thor reacted to it as though he had been physically struck, rocking back on his heels in shock.  
  
“You cannot--I didn’t think--you cannot speak the truth!” The god was suddenly on edge, practically hissing his words in a stage whisper. Tony immediately decided that whatever the hell was going on, he wanted no part of it. Whatever left Loki vomiting like a sickly frat pledge and gave Thor panic attacks was something far above his pay grade.  
  
“Where are you staying now? Have you moved from where I last saw you? Wherever it is, it cannot be right for your situation. What are you surviving on? Where do you--” Thor had grabbed onto Loki’s shoulders again, and now appeared to be holding himself back from physically shaking the man. Personally, Tony thought it might do them both some good. It also felt good not to be the one babbling nonsense in the group, it really did. So of course Loki had to go and spoil Tony’s moment by slowly dissolving into a whirl of green and black smoke.  
  
Thor was always discouraged when his brother fled the scene of battle. This time he completely lost it. Roaring in frustration, he tried to grab at Loki as his arms quickly become less and less substantial. Tony recognized the spell from an altercation a few months before; it was a slow process, and meant for the real Loki. At least they hadn’t been tricked by one of his freaky doubles this time.  
  
Loki had dissolved all the way up to his shoulders and upper legs when the process suddenly stopped.  
  
“Actually,” Loki sighed as he resolidified. “I’d best not. You understand, of course. Who can even _imagine_ what shifting might do to it?” He held one hand up and muttered a few words under his breath. The next thing Tony knew, he and the rest of the Avengers were enveloped in a thick cloud of black smoke. He heard Hulk bellow in confusion, and steve struggling to be heard over the noise. “Hold your fire! Nobody fire till this stuff clears, we’ve got zero visibility!”  
  
Iron Man’s sensors could normally locate his teammates in zero-visibility combat situations, but right now he might as well have been trying to stare through a brick wall. He momentarily considered trying to fly clear of the cloud, but it wasn’t worth the risk of hitting one of his teammates.  
  
“ **_Loki!_** ” Thor’s howl rivaled that of Hulks. Tony heard the familiar thrum of Mjolnir rising steadily over the din and confusion. The hammer’s wind cyclone made quick work of clearing the air, but it was too late. Loki had vanished.  
  
Thor shouted his name again, turning in frantic circles as he scanned for any clue to where Loki had fled. When none was found, the god stalked his way back to the others.  
  
“Make haste, we must find his trail at once. We have no time to lose!”  
  
Tony couldn’t keep his mouth shut this time. Really, it was a miracle that he’d lasted this long.  
  
“Yeah, because that’s not what we’ve been doing for most of this month, is it--”  
  
“Not now, Iron Man. Thor, you mind telling me just what the heck is going on?”  
  
Damn it, Steve. The last thing Tony needed to know was _more_ about this tableau of Nordic insanity. Stupid Steve with his stupid team leadership skills.  
  
Thor whirled around to face Captain America, the expression on his face battling between panic and rage. Steve looked back up patiently, not giving an inch in the face of the formidable sight. Still, Thor was not giving an answer. Maybe he never would. Maybe Steve would agree to save it for a later time and let Tony just miss this whole thing.  
  
Unfortunately, someone on the team never missed anything, and she especially didn’t miss the dirty little secrets of powerful men.  
  
“So,” Natasha sighed, “do they not have condoms on Asgard?”


	2. Of Thunder-Buns and Princess Brides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers head back to Stark Tower for a debriefing with someone even more terrifying than Loki: Agent Coulson.

Clint, being the most fluent in Natasha-Speak, was the first one to clue into what she meant. By the time his hysterical laughter died down, it had struck Steve and Tony too. Even Hulk looked unsettled.

“Are you--” Steve swallowed, still trying to wrap his head around it. “--are you saying that Loki is...”

“Preggo?” Tony offered.

Steve made a strained sound and almost dropped his shield. 

“We’ve got to do clean up and check in with Agent Coulson,” he insisted. No one run off after clean up,” he added, glaring in Iron Man’s direction. Tony tried to make the faceplate look as innocent as possible. Steve didn’t fall for it. 

“Clint, radio Coulson and tell him to meet us in the tower. We’re having an emergency team meeting.” 

Hulk gave an annoyed grunt at those dreaded three words. “Hulk no like emergency team meetings.” With that, he proceeded to rapidly shrink in size, his green coloring fading away to the weary form of Bruce Banner. The scientist gave a weary sigh and accepted the pair of slacks Steve held out to him. 

“He always leaves me with the paperwork, doesn’t he?”

Tony nodded, tossing him an undershirt as well. 

“Smart bastard.”

\----------------------------------

Agent Coulson was already sitting (in Tony’s favorite spot, no less) in the main room when the group returned. He was immaculate as usual, every line of his suit freshly pressed. If anything, the man had been even more of a closed book since his miraculous “return from the dead.” Beside him was an equally neat, just as intimidating stack of paperwork. Some of it looked to be in triplicate. 

“Agent Barton has informed me that today’s encounter with Loki has had some unexpected complications.”

“Loki’s got a thunder-bun in his freezer,” Clint translated, hopping up onto the back of the chair to perch behind Coulson. 

One by one, the other five group members settled down in a circle. Well, four of them settled. Natasha sat on the floor with her guns.

“Captain, what can you tell me about what happened out there? The smokescreen Loki set off interfered with our surveillance units.”

Steve took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair before speaking. 

“We had him contained when Loki...became ill. A lot, all over the sidewalk. Once he was sick, he no longer tried to engage in hostile contact.” 

Coulson raised an eyebrow and whipped out his phone. He didn’t bother to look down as he rapidly tapped out a text message. Clint peeked over his shoulder and snorted.

“Phil, that’s nasty.”

“It’s science,” Coulson sighed and slipped the phone back into the safety of his suit pocket before Barton could liberate it for nefarious Angry Bird schemes. Bruce’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked up at the SHIELD agent in quiet surprise. 

“SHIELD’s going to collect it,” he declared, sharing the revelation with the rest of the team. “You’re going to try and analyze it.”

“If we can tell what Loki has been eating, we might be able to narrow down the areas he’s been frequenting. Like I said: science,” Coulson repeated. 

“Nasty, nasty science,” Clint agreed. 

Phil gave a polite cough and reached for his stack of papers. 

“As interesting as SHIELD’s science branch is, I was under the impression that we were here to discuss a more pressing matter.” 

Each Avenger got a small sheaf of papers. It was the usual post-fight set: an injury report, itemized damage report, and a general field report. Phil then handed Thor a much, much larger stack of unfamiliar forms. 

“What manner of papers are these?” the god asked, squinting at the blocks of text.

For those who knew how to listen, Coulson’s voice contained something approaching sadistic glee as he explained.

“If you’ll look, the top form is for unauthorized contact with a hostile force, then an additional standard injury and damage report for that altercation. You’ll also see one for a standard SHIELD STI check from medical, as well as an application for prenatal and neonatal care insurance through our provider, and an application for this month’s ‘SHIELD: Appropriate Sexual Conduct in the Workplace and You’ seminar. In addition,” he continued, pulling out a small tape recorder, “to an interview, to be conducted by myself, as soon as possible. Preferably now.” 

“Is that analog?” Tony objected. “Because I’ll have you know that I’m allergic--”

“Quiet,” Natasha murmured. Tony’s jaw shut with an audible click. The redhead was ignoring her paperwork in favor of field stripping her weapon, reassembling it, then disassembling it again in a blur of motion. It was a terrifyingly mindless task for the agent, and one her teammates had learned to mean she was turning a problem over in her head. 

“Prenatal and neonatal care?” she asked. “I have to say Coulson, I’m touched by your generosity. I didn’t think you’d clear Loki for medical coverage after he killed you.” 

Clint grinned and leaned over to sling an arm around Agent Coulson’s shoulder. 

“Ah, but it just so happens that Agent Coulson here was only mostly dead. There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead.” 

The corners of Coulson’s mouth twitched upwards for a brief instant. 

“Mostly dead is slightly alive.”

The rest of the team took a moment to quietly try and come to terms with the fact that Agent Coulson could quote “The Princess Bride.”

Having the advantage of cultural ignorance, Thor was the one to break the silence. 

“I will tell you whatever tales you need to make sense of this, Agent Coulson.”

“Not tales,” Phil corrected. “We need the truth. Captain? If you and the others have somewhere else to be, this might be the time to go there.” 

“No.” Thor shook his head, motioning for the others to sit back down. “These people are my fellow warriors, and they have all been affected by Loki’s madness. They deserve to hear this if they wish to.” 

When no one made a move to leave the room, Coulson shrugged and turned on the tape recorder before placing it on the table. 

“First question. When did you locate Loki, and how?”

Thor took a slow, steadying breath before he began to speak. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

“My brother and I met the first night after SHIELD caught wind that he had returned to your city,” he admitting, casting his eyes down to where his fingers were tracing the patterns of Mjolnir’s surface. He had been telling the truth before; all the people before him had been touched by Loki’s sickness. They deserved to hear this, but Thor still felt as though he was exposing a tender secret. 

“I did not find him. I was exploring one of his older places of rest, in the hopes that there would be something to point us towards him. He wasn’t there when I arrived, I do know that for certain. I had only been there a few moments when he slipped through a mirror, so he must have been watching me by means of some spellwork.”

“Was there anything about his appearance or demeanor that suggested there was something amiss with the situation?” 

Thor bowed his head lower, an echo of the possessive panic from before flaring up in his chest. Had there been anything amiss? There was always something wrong with their meetings since Loki’s fall. What wasn’t amiss as he watched his dearest companion twist and curl like burning parchment, blackened by a sickness that left his cheeks hollow and his spirit poisoned? 

“No,” he answered. “Nothing different from the shadow you know.”

“You said that he had to be monitoring you. Why? What did he want with you?” Coulson asked. In addition to the tape recorder, the agent had pulled out a small notepad to jot down indecipherable notes. 

“I do not know why. Even before his madness it was useless to try and guess my brother’s motives. As for his purpose that night, it seemed that he wished to mock me for seeking him out alone.”

It hadn’t made much sense to Thor when Loki had appeared. Why reward his efforts by coming? Even as he flung his hateful words, the sight of Loki alive and in one piece in front of him had been like a balm to the wound in Thor’s heart. Even as he had lamented Loki’s manic, undernourished appearance, he had also revelled in the sight. 

“I begged him once more to see reason. He still has not been disowned from Odin’s line, nor cast out from the court. I reminded him that though I cannot love what he has done, I still miss his presence by my side.” 

Steve averted his eyes at that, but Thor did not feel any shame for it. He did not care if all the realms knew how much he yearned for Loki’s return. If every other living thing knew it, perhaps then even Loki might believe it to be true. 

“Was there a fight?”

“Aye. That was when he struck out, and we battled for a time. He had many tricks as usual, but with Mjolnir’s aid I managed to immobilize him.” 

Thor swallowed, trying to ignore the faint flush he could feel rising in his cheeks as he remembered the scene. He had pinned Loki to the wall with the weight of his own body, and his free hand had been wrapped tight in Loki’s hair. 

“My brother is ever vain,” he explained, for a moment feeling like he was merely addressing a boyhood tussle, “and he would always rather suffer my presence than risk ripping out his own hair. Then he....tried to incense me further, and pressed his mouth to mine.” 

Coulson’s pen paused in its scratching, then began again at double the pace. 

“What did he say right before this?”

Thor kept his grip on Mjolnir, finding a small degree of comfort in the familiar weight in his hand. 

“He said...he said that even if I spoke truly and desired him beside me, then I was no less of a blind fool than I had been the night I coaxed a serpent into my bed.” 

To his credit, Coulson’s pen did not waver again. 

“And what does that mean?”

"Lok spoke of something that transpired long ago when we were young men in Asgard. It was a prank he pulled in order to teach me a lesson. I do not know if he expected it, but when I responded to his attentions he seemed...pleased."

Loki's kiss had mocked him with a sweet, gentle slide of lips that couldn't have been farther from the wicked glint in his eyes. Thor's anger had tumbled forward into lust, and he yanked his brother's head to the side, the better to attack his mouth. He had not been gentle, he reflected, instead pushing himself onto Loki like a conquering army. In retrospect, Thor was ashamed of himself. It was no noble thing, returning a gentle kiss with such ferocity. 

Loki had not had such qualms. He had recieved the attack with an elated moan and pressed forward for more. The two fought with teeth and tongues, both snarling and panting as they pulled away pieces of each other's armor.

"It grew heated, and then Loki climbed upon me and demanded that I should find pleasure inside him."

Thor risked looking up. The Captain's face had turned an interesting shade of red, while everyone else wore a politely blank look. Even Coulson raised an eyebrow as he spoke.

"Was that his exact phrasing?"

"No," Thor replied with a small frown. "What does SHIELD need with my brother's words from a heated moment?"

"When it comes to Loki, SHIELD needs all the information it can get."

Thor could always say that he had forgotten Loki's exact words, but he had never been a skillful liar. Loki's words were burned into his brain, every moan remembered in perfect detail.

"...He said 'Are you still a full man after so long among the mortals? Spread my legs and breed me if you still can.'"

"....breed me." Coulson repeated.

"Yes," Thor said, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. 

"When a girl tells you to knock her up, that's when you run away," Tony interjected. Thor fixed him with a reproachful glare.

"My brother is no maiden, Stark. He spoke in such a way to inflame my passion."

Coulson had asked for Loki's words, and the words Thor had freely given. He would not volunteer the way Loki had climbed him, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping both his legs around Thor's waist. Nor did SHIELD need to be party to the way his brother spoke, a half-crazed growl that had gone straight to his cock.

"Is that when...?" Coulson prompted, dragging him back from the heated memory.

"I took him." Thor's voice was firm and brooked no room for further question. If the agent wanted more details, he would not give them. That moment existed for himself and Loki alone. 

No sooner had the trickster given his challenge than Thor found himself tearing at Loki's collar with his teeth to bite and lick at the pale skin underneath. In the time it took to shove both of their trousers out of the way, Loki had magicked some bottle of slick liquid to them and pressed it into his palm. After that it had been quick work to prepare Loki, squirming and threatening eternal torture if his lust was not quenched all the while. 

Loki's complaints had only stopped once he was properly taken; then both of them were reduced to cries of pleasure and grunts of more and harder. Loki had groaned Thor's name as he came, long limbs tightening around him as though his brother aimed to pull him in and consume him wholly. 

"..and I spent myself inside him," he added. "I did not know that my brother can concieve, but if he is pregnant, then it is with my child."

Coulson stopped writing for a moment, tapping the end of his pen against his notebook before asking the next question. 

"And there is no possibility that the child isn't yours? If Loki had had another sexual partner around the same time..."

Thor felt an ugly, dark impulse jump in his chest, but he ignored it. Phil Coulson was an honorable man.

"I will not malign my child with such talk until you lay evidence before me," he said, pointedly placing Mjolnir on the table between them.

"Understood," Coulson said with a nod. "That should be enough for Fury...unless you want to tell me more about that prank?"

Thor shook his head.

"It is not of import," he murmured, "merely a misadventure when I was a foolish young warrior..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like this will be 5 chapters at the least! Next chapter will be a flashback to the prank Loki alluded to.


	3. Hey Baby, Those Legs Look Like They Could Wrap All the Way Around the World Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A closer look at the "misadventure" Thor and Loki had as young men...

Manhood had come upon Odin’s sons in very different ways. Loki had shot up like a weed, growing into long limbs in what seemed like a matter of months. Much to his dismay, while he had grown up, he had not grown _out_. Thor, on the other hand, had filled out enough for the both of them. While Loki stayed lean and graceful,  the golden child had gradually grown into the golden man with broad shoulders and a presence that filled a room.  
  
Thor had not been embraced as a man in the eyes of Asgard for a fortnight before the women of Asgard wanted to embrace him as well. The various maidens that lived and worked around the palace were all too eager to take a tumble with Odin’s eldest, and who was he to refuse them? Sex was nearly as enjoyable as battle, and there was no shortage of soft, sweet-smelling maidens vying for his attention. In fact, a lesser man would have been overwhelmed.  
  
Thor was no lesser man; the three chambermaids slipping out of his bedchambers while he had breakfast with his brother was a testament to that.  
  
“ _Really_ brother,” Loki glanced over Thor’s shoulder to where the maids were giggling quietly and beginning their daily duties. “Did you have dirt in your ears when Mother told you to finish one plate of food before starting another?”  
  
Thor grinned back at him, unabashed as he snagged a pear from the center of the table.  
  
“Ah, but it would be rude for me to do one maiden a favor and leave her companions wanting.”  
  
Loki didn’t look very impressed with Thor’s line of reasoning.. Heaving a sigh far too weary for such a young prince, he rested his elbows on the breakfast table, turning an apple over for inspection before he bit into it.  
  
“There’s generosity, Thor, and then there’s the stupidity of a glutton. Just what do you think you’re doing, taking woman after woman into your bed?”  
  
Thor took a bite of his pear, but was dismayed to find that it was not yet ripe. He took another from the bowl and tossed the first one over his shoulder.  
  
“Now Loki, between a maiden’s thighs lies a place that welcomes worthy warriors such as oursel--”  
  
Thor’s explanation was cut short by the solid thunk of an apple bouncing off of his forehead. Loki stretched the silence to its breaking point, taking his time as he picked another fruit to weaponize. Thor watched his first apple roll away, only one bite taken out of the perfectly red flesh. While in Thor’s opinion it made dining a much more festive occasion, it was unlike Loki to throw food about the dining hall. His brother must be truly vexed by his carousing. His grin faded slightly as he shifted back in his chair.  
  
Apparently satisfied that Thor would not tease him again, Loki restarted his chastising.  
  
“I don’t know why Father hasn’t spoken to you about this yet. Perhaps he wishes to turn a blind eye to your indiscretions, or hopes that you will tire of it soon.” Loki paused, as if just realizing something, and his gaze hardened. “Or he might just be leaving this for me to sort out yet again,” he murmured. “It’s of no matter,” he added, waving the thought away as he refocused his attention on Thor, “but I will not let you bring down this kingdom from your bedchambers.”  
  
Thor opened his mouth to protest, but closed it when Loki made as if to throw his second apple. It scarcely hurt more than a pebble, but Loki’s admonishments didn’t need to be brutal to sting.  
  
Thor’s compliance seemed to mollify Loki yet again; he actually put the apple down before speaking again.  
  
“I didn’t mean that you’d do anything on purpose, Thor. You never do, but you don’t even bother to find out a maiden’s name before you put their backs on the sheets.”  
  
“Do you fear for their honor?” Thor asked, already preparing to dodge another messenger of Loki’s ire. “I didn’t know you guarded our maids so fiercely.”  
  
“It’s not the maids that I guard!” Loki growled, blunt nails piercing the skin of his apple. “You’ll rut your way to ruin, brother. You’ll bed a maid with a sickness that leaves either your body or mind useless, or end up with a flock of bastard children to pick away at the throne. And what of an assassin that hears that the first-born son of Asgard will bed anything in a skirt? You’ll either sentence the throne to a slow rot or coax a serpent into your bed.”  
  
Loki’s voice did not waver, but Thor saw his nails bite deeper into the flesh of the apple as he spoke. Thor cast his eyes downward, turning his untouched pear over in his hands.  
  
“Why no joy in watching me undo myself this time?”  
  
It was not a rhetorical question. Thor could easily recall a plethora of drunken meadhall incidents that, while the fruit of Loki’s machinations, had also been entirely Thor’s fault. There were enough nights that ended with a bewildered Thor, massive property damage and a giggling Loki to pen an epic--something Loki often threatened to do.  
  
Loki sighed and finally released the apple, pausing to lick the juice off of his fingers.  
  
“This is no broken bar table. Watching you gloriously embarrass yourself and watching you bring ruin to all of the kingdom are two different things.”  
  
“I appreciate your counsel, brother,” Thor replied. “I will be more careful with who I bring back to my bedchambers. I promise.”  
  
\----------------------------------------------------  
  
Thor had meant it. He really, truly had. When it was just the two of them, Loki’s words were sage advice from a concerned brother. He had been thoroughly chastised at the breakfast table; Loki was not just his brother, but his closest friend and advisor for all things.  
  
However, Loki was not the sweet serving wench at the next feast who insisted on sitting on Thor’s lap to refill his flagon. With a good night’s drink in his belly and a woman on his lap, Loki’s words grew faint in his mind. Surely his brother had not really meant for him to act as less than a man. Perhaps Loki had been worried that Thor would try to win the affections of a maiden that he had his eyes on...  
  
As Thor slid a hand up the serving girl’s thigh and murmured a suggestion in her ear, he made a mental note to ask Loki which woman he’d taken a liking to.  
  
  
  
Thor was feeling much less magnanimous a few minutes later when Loki suddenly appeared perched on his bed. The serving maid saw him first, as the thunder god’s face was somewhere in the tangle of her petticoats when she let out a shrill shriek (and not the kind he’d been hoping to draw out).  
  
Loki sat cross legged on the edge of Thor’s bed, eyes wide in a picture of false innocence.  
  
“And who might this lucky maiden be, to pass my dear brother’s new raised standards?”  
  
No one could miss the wicked tilt of Loki’s smile. To his horror, when he opened his mouth to give a name, Thor found that none was forthcoming. At least, not the one that he had hoped.  
  
“ _Loki_!”  he shouted, rising to his knees as the serving girl gathered her skirts and fled the room. “What do you think you’re doing!?”  
  
His brother simply laughed, rolling along with Thor’s momentum as he tackled him to the floor.  
  
“Merely holding you to your promise! You ought to be more appreciative, Thor.”  
  
“I’ll show you appreciative,” Thor growled. Then, tossing all honorable rules of combat aside, he buried his hands in Loki’s hair and gave it a vicious yank.  
  
In most cases, Loki was the more dignified of the two brothers. This was not most cases. Loki’s indignant yelps joined Thor’s howls of frustration as he kicked out, landing a solid blow on Thor’s stomach. Thor lost most of the breath in his lungs, but he did not relent. The serving girl was quickly forgotten as they traded blows and insults, rolling about on the floor like two common brawlers.  
  
Loki managed to squirm out of the way of a particularly forceful punch, and Thor felt his fist connect with one of the legs of his bed. Glancing up, Loki gave a breathy giggle before grabbing Thor’s head with both hands and smashing it into the damaged bedpost. It gave out with a sharp crack, sending Thor’s pallet, furs and blankets tumbling to the floor in a heap.  
  
Something else entirely came out of the bed frame itself. As soon as the beam cracked in two, a wave of green and gold mist rolled out of the broken timber and spilled out over the ground like a heavy fog. Confused, Thor sat back on his heels and stared at the strange material pouring out of his bed.  
  
“Loki,” he panted, “what is this?”  
  
His brother glared up at him from his position on the floor, still held in place between Thor’s thighs. He threw his hands up above his head and let the mist roll through his fingers.  
  
“That,” he spat, “is months and months of wasted effort.”  
  
“What magic did you work upon my bed, brother?”  
  
Lok did not answer, merely smirking at him and stretching as though he would rather curl up and sleep in the ruined bedding instead of smash Thor’s head through something else hard and unforgiving.  
  
“Tell me!” Thor demanded. When Loki still did not answer, he squeezed his thighs tighter around the other man’s rib cage. Loki somehow managed to look even more nonchalant as his older brother threatened to snap a rib. When Thor increased the pressure even more, Loki retaliated by digging his nails into the tender flesh of Thor’s upper thighs.  
  
“Loki,” he warned. A broken rib wouldn’t kill his brother, but it was still a serious injury that Thor had no wish to inflict. “Will you tell me what sorcery you’ve worked, or will you continue to act like a sullen brat?”  
  
Loki gave Thor’s legs an extra-hard dig before letting go and drumming his fingertips along his flanks instead.  
  
“Hmm...though I am tempted to fight the biggest brat in Asgard as an equal...” he said with a smirk, “it’s far too clever a spell not to share. The two hundredth time you bedded someone, it would have turned your lover into a goat, and your manhood into a beetroot.”  
  
Loki took advantage of Thor’s shocked silence to yawn theatrically and pull one of Thor’s pillow under his head. “ Which, of course, would then fall off and be eaten by your lovely new pet.”  
  
Thor was not as quick-witted as his younger brother, but nor was he a dullard. After the shock of such a horrific threat to his manhood had faded, he eyed Loki suspiciously, eyes narrowed as he tried to read the layers of expression on the other god’s face.  
“You grow too bold with your lies, Loki. Even you cannot make me believe that.”  
  
Surprise flitted across his brother’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a sly grin.  
  
“How cunning, Thor. Why would I do such a thing, when I know you’re incapable of remembering any lesson not taught to you with the business end of a weapon?”  
  
Thor wisely ignored Loki’s barb, leaning forward to put a hand on Loki’s cheek. It was like holding a flame to ice. The forced smile melted away to an mixture of confusion and annoyance.  
  
“You grow too bold,” Thor repeated, “because not even you can convince me that you would do me such harm.”  
  
Loki’s expression tensed, then relaxed further into a genuine smile. He then looked back at the sorry state of Thor’s bed, leaning into the hand Thor still held to his face.  
  
“It is months of wasted effort,” he insisted as he gave Thor’s legs an affectionate squeeze. “Protective spells take forever to complete in something that big, and I can’t even start to replace those counter-fertility spells until the next lunar cycle.”  
  
Thor grinned back at him, finally shifting his weight so that Loki could wiggle free.  
  
“Thank you, brother.”  
  
Loki got to his feet and dusted himself. To Thor’s dismay, he appeared to be keeping the pillow.  
  
“Don’t thank me just yet. I’ll be leaving the palace for a while to prepare the spells...and hopefully find a way to get my point through that hard skull of yours.”  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
  
By the time the next occasion for a feast came around, nearly a month had passed since Thor had last seen Loki. True to his word, the young sorcerer had vanished the night of their brawl, along with one of his more mysterious trunks of supplies. Without his brother to provide a distraction from the dull goings on of everyday life, Thor was all too glad for an excuse to carouse and make merry with his companions.  
  
Thor knew all of the palace maids by face if not name, so when a new face appeared at his side, he couldn’t help but take notice. The fact that the new face belonged to a pretty woman with a pitcher of mead in hand was merely a bonus. ‘Woman’ was the only way Thor could think of her. She couldn’t be called a maiden, much less a wench or girl. She possessed sharper features than the rosy-cheeked maidens that usually served him, with a strong nose and high cheekbones he could sharpen a blade on. Long black hair framed her face, partially obscuring a pair of wide green eyes.  
  
Thor hadn’t forgotten his brother’s words. Truly, he hadn’t. Still, what harm would there be in just appreciating the sight of a comely new servant? He slid his flagon to the left side of his plate so that the woman would have to either walk around his chair or lean over him to refill his glass. Much to his delight, she chose the latter. As she stretched, Thor looked her up and down, admiring what little of her body that was exposed. Her clothing was disappointingly modest, a loose green gown that only left her shoulders and throat bare. Thor followed the line of her body where it disappeared under the cloth, mentally filling things in as he went.  
  
He leaned to the right to better see her rear end at the same moment the woman leaned forward, and Thor heard her gasp as she tripped over his boot. He had the grace to catch her with a grin of sheepish apology. Decorum did not win out over lust for more than a few spare seconds though, vanishing as soon as Thor caught sight of a long leg peeking out from a hidden slit in her dress. It was sleek and pale, with just enough definition to suggest strength.  
  
Enough strength, for example, to wrap around a man’s waist while he thoroughly serviced her. Thor swallowed thickly as he felt a flare of lust in his belly.  
  
“I didn’t mean to trip you, maid,” he said, giving his leg a pat. “Here, come make a throne of my lap as recompense.”  
  
The servant didn’t hesitate at the offer, easily swinging a leg over Thor as if she were mounting a horse. Ignoring the neighboring warrior’s drunken whoops and hollers of appreciation, she settled down with her back flush against the prince’s chest. Instead of trying to find a modest position, the woman seemed perfectly fine with keeping her legs spread. They easily spanned Thor’s broad thighs, and the man could suddenly think of little else but seeing exactly how far they could part on every stable surface of his bedchamber. He felt himself start to swell slightly in his trousers, but the woman in his lap made no comment. She merely twisted in his lap to give him a sly grin. Thor leaned forward, grabbing his flagon as an excuse to slide his other hand up her exposed thigh.  
  
“It’d be a shame to see you just stand on those legs serving mead all night,” he murmured in her ear.  
  
The woman pressed her mouth to the side of his cheek, turning so that Thor had an excellent view of where her breasts swelled just below the neckline of her dress. He’d never hated textiles more.  
  
“What would you rather see me do with them, my lord? Point them at your ceiling?”  
  
“Among other things,” Thor agreed, not caring anymore that his arousal was now steadily pressing against this new, flirtatious servant’s backside. The more excited he became, the more she pushed back against the telltale bulge in his trousers.  
  
“Do you not think we will be missed?” she asked, giving another little wiggle in his lap. “Everyone wishes to drink to your health, and they will surely even miss me when their cups run dry.”  
  
Thor laughed and took her by the hips, lifting her off of his lap and back onto her feet.  
  
“Let them go thirsty! I won’t have you serving any other warriors tonight. Come!”  
  
Simultaneously trying to impress her with a show of strength and letting his mates have a laugh at her surprised shriek, Thor rose and slung the serving woman over his shoulder.  
  
Though he did get some applause and laughter, the maid did not give any protest to being publicly manhandled. If anything, she seemed smug languishing on top of him as he strode out of the feast hall. Only when they’d arrived in the privacy of his chambers did he let her down; Thor didn’t want a snooping palace guard getting an eyeful of what he intended to keep all to himself.  
  
“Are you quite done flexing those muscles?” the woman purred as Thor carefully lowered her to the floor.  
  
Choosing actions over words, Thor simply lifted her back off her feet and pressed a kiss to her mouth. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed  back enthusiastically. Thor was surprised at how aggressive this servant was proving to be in bed, but he was far from disappointed.  
  
Those legs proved their strength as she pushed herself up, shimming and grinding her way up Thor until she was holding onto his torso with her thighs and knees, almost a head above him. It was disconcerting for the prince to tilt his head up for a kiss, but he couldn’t argue with the way the new position let her grind herself against his erection. Thor moaned as the maid threaded her fingers through his hair, quickly honing in on the sensitive spot at the base of his skull. Thor gave a groan of encouragement, hips stuttering as she sucked vicious love bites up and down the line of his neck. He grabbed her ass with both hands, pushing them closer together as he rode the line of her exposed hip.  
  
“I need to be inside you,” he growled, “are you ready to be had by the finest warrior in Asgard, maid?”  
  
The woman laughed, pushing herself up to stare down at Thor from beneath her wild tangle of hair.  
  
“You great fool, I--” She gasped, eyes fluttering closed as she bucked in his grasp. “Oh!! Oh, Thor, what--!?”  
  
Whatever biting remark she had prepared was lost in an astonished moan when one of Thor’s hands slid beneath her dress, stroking and teasing at the heat that lay in between her legs. She was already aroused, much to Thor’s smug delight, and he could feel her getting wetter as he delved deeper to trace over her inner lips and entrance. The serving woman squirmed and pressed her thighs together like a virgin surprised by her own pleasure.  
  
“Surely a beauty like yourself isn’t untouched...?” Thor panted, rubbing his thumb in a slow circle around her clit. He got no response other than a desperate whine as his lover tilted her hips into the pressure. The prince slid his middle finger into her slick entrance, his own lust spiking higher as she clenched and fluttered around the digit.  
  
“Do you like it?” he asked, licking a line up her neck, “you’re already so ready for me, dear maid, as I am for you.” The woman still could not speak, giving a ragged gasp and driving herself down as he slipped another finger inside of her. Even silenced by pleasure, she still seemed determined to challenge him, sharp nails scratching his neck and back through his thin tunic. The sharp jabs of pain just further encouraged Thor as he moved them towards the bed. He managed to slowly lower both of them onto his mattress, never stopping the slow rhythm between her legs.  
  
He immediately took advantage of the new position, the hand that had been helping to hold her up now free to roam and stroke. One quick tug to the top of the woman’s dress exposed her chest. Thor covered one pert breast with a broad hand, stroking over its soft curves as he explored its mate with his mouth.  
  
“Oh! Oh by the Norns, I think--fuck, _Thor_!”  
  
The woman’s orgasm hit both of them by surprise. Shaking through her climax, she twisted and ground herself down onto the two fingers still buried deep inside her. Far too pleased with the fruits of his labors, Thor slowly slid his fingers out of her and gave her rump a pat before unlacing the front of his trousers.  
  
“You shall make even sweeter noises when I’m buried to the hilt inside of you,” he promised.  
  
The maid shook her head as the haze of orgasm cleared, looking mildly annoyed as she reached up and took a firm grasp of his hair.  
  
“Did all of your conquests have to put up with these speeches? Poor girls.”  
  
Before Thor could register the words, the servant had flipped their positions on the bed. The hand in his hair twisted and forced him to expose his neck to the knife that was suddenly pressed close to his skin.  
  
“Tsk tsk, how coarse. You never even asked me what my name was, brother.”  
  
As the woman spoke, her body shifted and wavered, sliding into a much more familiar form.  
  
“ _ **Loki**_!” Thor gasped his name, dumbstruck.  
  
His brother sat astride him where a woman had been seconds before, thoroughly debauched in the torn dress and holding the knife directly above where his artery ran.  
  
“I told you you might invite a serpent into your bed, Thor,” he teased, “Now you’ve simply had the good fortune of luring one that simply wants to teach you a lesson that sticks.”  
  
Loki was back in his male body, but the evidence of passion was still fresh on his skin. His cheeks and chest held their flush, and one nipple was still wet and erect from where Thor had been gently suckling moments before. Thor looked further down his body and immediately regretted it. His arousal in this form had not yet flagged, and was standing at full attention underneath the dress To further add to his horror, those slender legs that had driven him mad in the feast hall had barely changed at all. Thor felt his cock twitch with interest as Loki shifted his weight, exposing a sharp hipbone. How had he missed those legs his brother had been walking around on all these years?  
  
“Here’s your weapon’s point,” Loki said. “Has the lesson finally stuck, or shall I really learn that beetroot trick?”  
  
“No,” Thor croaked, trying to calm the heat still singing through his blood. “Tis a lesson well taught.”  
  
“See that it stays that way,” Loki replied, swinging his leg in what Thor now recognized as the dismount of a skilled horseman, “that shifting spell took far too long to master.”  
  
Sliding off of the bed, Loki ignored his brother’s stunned state in favor of inspecting his clothing.  
  
“...though it appears I still can’t change my clothing properly,” he muttered. As he trotted towards the door, he grabbed Thor’s brilliant red cloak and draped it over himself.  
  
“I’ll be taking this, then.”  
  
He paused, as if waiting for Thor to protest the petty theft, but when all he got was silence, he slipped out the door without another word.  
  
That left Thor alone on the bed with the maelstrom of thoughts still swirling about in his head. He stared up at the ceiling as though the wood grain would hold some answer. How could his brother remain so calm? He had been teaching Thor a lesson, but his body had been just as on edge as Thor's, sweat slicking his skin from how he'd been writhing and bucking up against him...  
  
" _Damn_ you, Loki."  
  
He let out a shaky breath and raised a hand to slowly wrap a hand around himself. The fresh memories of "the maid's" face and bare thighs now easily blurred with his brother's.  
  
God, he'd done all that to his brother, hadn't he? He had slung Loki over his shoulder and carried him away for a tumble. He'd pushed himself against his brother's hip and Loki had moaned for it. He'd made his brother come completely undone, he'd been inside him--  
  
Thor covered his mouth as he came. For all he knew Loki was still waiting outside his bedroom door. The last thing he needed was for Loki to hear how hot Thor's blood still ran at the thought of him; he'd never hear the end of it.


	4. The Curious Case of the Missing Deli Meat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets revealed, sentient ivy, and a slow descent into madness involving Tony and deli meat.

After their initial meeting with Coulson, things at the Avengers mansion had stayed exactly the same. Other than a few more forms and Thor's sheepish appearance at the seminar Coulson had sentenced him to, things stayed more or less the same for Tony and his friends.  
  
Still, "more or less the same" for the Avengers was still downright weird by most standards. Tony was having plenty of time to reflect on that as he was dragged out to an upscale baby store with Thor and Steve.The thunder god had originally intended to strike out on his own, but Rogers had quickly volunteered both himself and Tony when Thor admitted that he had no idea where to start looking in the city for maternity supplies.  
  
“What are we doing here?” Tony hissed out of the side of his mouth while Thor was engrossed in reading the back of a carton marked “belly butter.” Steve just gave him a warning glare and pretended to inspect the inside of what Tony was told was the top-of-the-line in baby strollers. Tony had been told that. What Tony believed was that it looked like something that could roll over a tank and carry supplies for a small guerilla army. Tony narrowed his eyes at Steve and pointedly stepped on his toes.  
  
The blond looked like he was about to start yelling at him in the middle of a store (again, Tony reminded himself. They were never going to be let back into that Chipotle) but instead glanced behind him quickly before pushing both of their heads into the confines of the monstrous stroller.  
  
“What are you--”  
  
“Shh! Look like you’re looking at...” Steve motioned towards a series of straps and buttons in the bassinet. “Whatever those are.”  
  
“ I repeat. What are we doing here?” Tony did as he was ordered, plastering a thoughtful look on his face as he poked and prodded at the structure as he hissed out of the corner of his mouth. “We should be hunting Loki down, not making him a goddamn shower registry.”  
  
“We’re here for Thor,” Steve reminded him, nose hitting Tony’s cheek as he turned a stern look on his teammate. “SHIELD is searching for Loki as we speak; when they know, we’ll know.”  
  
“If we’ve got no clue where he is,” Tony growled back, “what are  we doing here?”  
  
He stared pointedly at Steve, who sighed and looked back down into the depths of the stroller. There was a pregnant silence between them, both toying with the same possibility that neither of them wanted to speak aloud. Thor had met with Loki once before and failed to tell any of them about it. Now, with Loki carrying his child, how could they be certain Thor wasn’t keeping Loki safe from mortal interference?  
  
“Even if he knows,” Steve whispered, confirming Tony’s suspicions, “do you realize why it’s been so hard to track down Loki this time? There’s been no trouble that could be attributed to him, no one stirring up trouble that he’s ever been associated with. Either he’s intentionally laying low because of his...condition...” Steve’s face reddened as he said the word, visible even in the shadows of the stroller, “or Thor’s got him somewhere where he can’t cause any trouble. This is the quietest he’s ever been on SHIELD’s radar.”  
  
“Friends!”  
  
Steve and Tony’s clandestine meeting was cut short by a pair of broad hands clapping them on the back and pulling them upright. Thor was grinning ear to ear as he pulled both of them into a hug.  
  
“Do you think that this is fit for a king?” he asked, turning to the stroller that they’d just been using as an emergency war room. “It may be too early to buy such a thing, but I would like to know what the best is in everything that Midgard has for its mothers and babes.” The god motioned to his shopping cart, already piled high with what looked like just about every expensive maternity item the store had to sell.  
  
“Well, it’s not gonna be fit for anything if we can’t find Loki,” Tony blurted out. He didn’t need to look at Steve to know that he’d said something terrible. The man had gotten to be almost as good as Pepper at making him feel his disapproving stares.  
  
Thor’s grin faded as he reached into the basket, plucking up the bottle of lotion he’d just added to the pile.  
  
“I fear that my brother hides for fear of rejection,” he sighed. “If he returns, or deigns to spy upon me, I wish for him to see--” Thor paused, and his jaw clenched as some thought dissolved whatever remained of his smile. “I wish for him to see that he has nothing to fear.”  
  
Steve was silent, but he reached into the cart and began looking at the things that Thor had chosen. There were luxurious, all-natural soaps, specialty maternity pillows, and more lotions and massage aids than Tony knew existed. There was, in fact, almost nothing for an actual baby. Thor had happily spent the better part of a day debating over what creams would make his brother return to him safely.  
  
“Come on big guy,” Tony sighed, motioning Thor over to the checkout counter. “We passed at least three other baby stores on the way here. Let’s get started.”  
  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
It started the following week.  
  
Tony made his way to the main kitchen after a long night in his workshop. To be more accurate, it had been a long evening, night, and early morning, and right then all he wanted was a nice, thick sandwich. Rubbing a smudge of engine grease from his cheek, Tony went into autopilot as he grabbed his things from the fridge; lettuce, mustard, cheese, roast--  
  
Tony’s hand faltered, grasping empty air where there should have been a package of his favorite deli’s roast beef. Dazed and punch drunk from his all-nighter, the man stared determinedly at the empty space, urging the meat to reappear through sheer willpower. When that failed to work, he cursed and started searching the rest of the fridge, inch by inch. He even opened all of the tupperware and tinfoil bundles, just to be sure.  
  
“JARVIS!” he shouted, glaring at a container that dared to contain week-old spaghetti, “where’s my roast beef?”  
  
If his AI had had the ability to give a put upon sigh, Tony was sure it would have heaved one before answering.  
  
“Sir, unless it has been eaten, any and all perishable food should be in the refrigerator.”  
  
“I just bought this yesterday,” Tony groused. “It’s from a popular deli, too. You have to stand in line for hours some days if you hit the rush.”  
  
Of course, Tony hadn’t had to stand in line for this. That was what Stark Industries’ interns were for. Still, someone had stood in line for the sole purpose of Tony Stark getting to eat thinly sliced roast beef, and now it was gone. It was the principle of the thing, really.  
  
“Then it stands to reason that someone has eaten it. Would you like to review the kitchen’s security footage?” JARVIS asked.  
  
“Nah, shoulda hidden it if I didn’t want someone eating it,” Tony waved off the suggestion, a particular captain’s legendary appetite coming to mind. If Steve had gotten the midnight munchies, roast beef was a small price to pay to not have to deal with a ravenous, grumpy Captain America the next day.  
  
He texted Pepper a note to send another intern down to the deli, and soldiered on through his sandwich without the precious roast beef.  
  
The next morning, Unpaid Intern #24 delivered a package of honey ham to the tower. It too disappeared before he even had the chance to unwrap it. Tony repeated the process the next day, and this time it was a pound of shaved chicken breast that vanished into the mysterious great beyond.  
  
After a week of theft, Tony was furious. He started writing his name and the Stark Industries logo and hoped the others would take a hint, but if anything the orders began to disappear even more quickly. He finally broke down and reviewed JARVIS' security footage, but he found no answers there, either. By the end of the month, Tony’s orders had taken on a note of insanity as he desperately tried to discover a package that the specter would not take.  
  
Fifteen pounds of roast beef. Gone.  
  
One slice of chicken breast marked “human tissue sample.” Gone.  
  
Half a pound of honey ham hidden inside an uncooked chicken. The chicken was left untouched, its precious contents neatly stolen.  
  
Thirty-three and a half beef tongues, carefully stacked like Lincoln Logs. Gone in three hours.  
  
The four pounds of uncooked blood tongue didn't even make it a full hour before it too vanished into the ether. He was still sitting at the kitchen table, staring into the maw of the open fridge when Natasha came in to make herself a cup of coffee, Clint in tow. Both of them remained perfectly silent, trading meaningful glances at each other as they brewed their coffee. Tony ignored the pair, one clenched hand pressed to his mouth as he continued to stare unblinking into the fridge. If they had someone to kill, or were god-forbid trying to bring on the apocalypse by screwing around with each other behind Coulson’s back, that wasn’t his problem.  
  
Actually no, that would be his problem. If Natasha and Coulson decided to throw down over SHIELD's best archer, that would be most of New York City's problem. Tony shuddered, a "Godzilla versus Mothra" showdown starting to play out in his head. Even that took precedence over his missing deli meat.  
  
His fears seemed to be concerned when Natasha dragged a reluctant Clint over to the kitchen table, shoving him down in a seat opposite Tony before sitting beside him.  
  
"Tony, we need to talk about this."  
  
Tony quickly shook his head and held his hands up in a defensive posture.  
  
"No, no we don't actually. This is too weird even for me, okay? If this--" Tony made a vague gesture with his hands in the air, trying and failing to express the horrors of Nat,  Coulson, and Clint all locked in a vaguely erotic deathmatch, "is happening under my roof, quite frankly I don't want to hear about it until the report on CNN."  
  
Clint gave an amused snort, but still remained quiet, arms crossed defensively over his chest. He and Natasha looked over their shoulders at the open refrigerator, then back at Tony.  
  
"Tony..." Natasha continued. She was speaking quietly, careful with each one of her words. Even with the little that Stark knew about the Black Widow, he knew that this wasn't a good sign. "Are you prepared to deal with this?"  
  
"No!" he spat back, flinging his hands up into the air. "The only thing I'm dealing with now is whoever keeps stealing my goddamn deli meat! And if it's one of you two, don't think I'm not going to get reimbursed by SHIELD!"  
  
Threatening the Black Widow with deli reciepts? God, he really had lost it.  
  
"Sometimes I wonder if you just pretend to be this dense, Stark."  
  
Romanov moved quicker than Tony could follow, wrapping a hand around his wrist and hauling him upright. He didn't even attempt to escape as she marched him out of the kitchen and down the hall. Whatever she had planned, he was sure struggling would only make it worse. Still, his life flashed before his eyes as he was dragged behind the petite redhead, a sullen Clint still trailing after as they made their way towards the main living area.  
  
Oh god I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I didn't drink nearly enough at MIT I'll never get Dummy to make a perfect smoothie I'll never patch up Rhodey's suit again I'll  never get to touch that All-American ass--  
  
Tony's internal wailing came to a stuttering halt as Natasha shoved him against something that felt like a living brick wall. He blinked, then poked the brick wall hesitantly. This wall had giant pectoral muscles, which meant it must be Thor.  
  
"-- and Tony's losing it more than usual," he heard Natasha say as she jerked his still-captured arm in the air for emphasis. "This has got to stop. Clint and I know, Thor. We know."  
  
Tony looked up the wall that was Thor to his face, seeking answers. Thor was far from stupid, but he didn't speak in riddles. If he could make any sense of this, it would be with the thunder god's help. However, there was no help for Stark's frayed mind today. Thor's face crumpled under Natasha's gaze, and he slid down into a nearby armchair with a weary sigh, still clutching his book.  
  
...Book? Since when did Thor carry books around with him? Tony stared at the volume's cover, illustration of a fluffy bear and blanket visible between the god's tense grasp. In the back of his mind, Stark imagined that he could hear the roar of an oncoming storm.  
  
"Friend, do not ask this of me," Thor pleaded, staring up at Natasha with pained eyes. Nat could not be intimidated by shows of strength, nor could she be taken in by pleading.  
  
"Tony. Hey, Stark," she said, snapping him out of the staring contest he was currently having with the teddy bear on Thor's book. "What did you buy from the deli last Tuesday?"  
  
"Three pounds of salami," he answered immediately. Tony had memorized each of his disappearing orders, had in fact made complicated spreadsheets factoring every detail he could think of.  
  
"And where did you put it?" Natasha prompted again.  
  
"In a ring of salt, in the freezer, in a hollowed out vanilla and buttercream frosting cake, inside a locked iron box."  
  
Tony chose to gracefully ignore the guffaw that escaped Clint's mouth.  
  
"It's driving Stark insane," Natasha pressed. "It's time for this to stop, before Tony makes a rocket out of lunch meat. Or," she added, "my superiors decide to step in before he does."  
  
Thor's face clouded over at the mention of SHIELD interference, and Tony knew that he didn't imagine the thunderclap outside of the tower this time. Natasha tensed at the sound, but she didn't back down.  
  
"You would not," Thor growled.  
  
"I would. I don't want to, but I would," Nat replied. She finally let go of Tony's arm and reached out to the book Thor was now holding possessively to his chest.  
  
"Just show us," she continued, voice softening as she curled her fingers around the well-worn edges of the book. Thor did not relent in his grip, still tensed like an animal that Natasha had backed into a corner. "We won't take him from you, Thor. Not now."  
  
Him?  
  
Him.  
  
Him.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Tony's mind went from fraying to emergency overdrive immediately. A cold rush of panicked adrenaline spread through his body as he jerked away from the others, staggering backwards as he shouted orders to JARVIS.  
  
"JARVIS, initiate emergency protocol thirty-eight C," he snapped, mentally running through all the wild cards of the situation. "Run a full scan of the tower for nonhuman presence, and locate Bruce and Steve. If they're out of the tower, tell them to stay the hell away."  
  
When Tony felt the back of his knees hit the sofa, he let himself collapse back into the cushions. He stared at the ceiling while the tower's massive windows were shuttered by military-grade steel, the screeching metal punctuated by the sound of every door locking shut floor by floor.  
  
"Scan complete sir," JARIVIS chimed. "Other than Thor, there's no other alien presence in the Avengers tower."  
  
"Bullshit," Tony snapped. "Loki's somewhere in here."  
  
"If that is the case, sir, " JARVIS replied, "then his magic has altered my sensors to the point where I cannot detect him.  
  
So now the Asgardian had figured out a way to tinker with Tony's babies? Excellent. Just another reason for Stark to hate him.  
  
"Sir, Bruce is out at the moment, but Steve Rogers--"  
  
"Tony! What's going on?" Steve came skidding around the corner. Though he had had time to grab his shield, there was still one of his drawing pencils tucked safely behind his ear.  
  
"Loki's in the tower, but we don't know where," he answered weakly, letting Clint pull him back up into a standing position. Wow, one month really was far too long to go without a full night's sleep, wasn't it.  
  
Steve's attention immediately turned to Thor, who was still sitting practically vibrating with some internal conflict. When the thunder god remained silent, the captain's mouth drew into a tight line.  
  
"I'll bet I do."  
  
He motioned for the other Avengers to follow as he turned and ran out of the room. Nat, Clint, Thor, and Tony followed him up the stairs. They were heading straight for the floor that held Thor's bedroom, Tony realized, still delirious from a month of paranoid insomnia combined with the sudden adrenaline rush. Of course Thor wouldn't decide to put the pregnant war criminal somewhere out of the way in a boiler room or storage level. No, he'd stick him right under their noses. And if Loki would even agree to staying anywhere less infuriating.  
  
Pushing to the front of the group, Tony gritted his teeth and stomped his way down the long hallway When he got his hands on Loki, there was going to be a reckoning. He felt Steve's hand on his elbow, but he pushed it away and picked up the pace. Had he really put this much space away for a hallway? The tower's square footage was impressive, but this was ridiculous.  
  
Tony whirled around to face Steve and the others and immediately forgot whatever he was going to yell at them. They had been walking down this hallway for over a full minute, but there was now what looked like a solid wall at Thor's back.  
  
"...Does the hall on this floor usually do this?" he asked. When Thor turned and saw what had sprung up behind him, honest surprise bloomed on his face.  
  
"I have never seen this before. My brother must have laid spells to guard himself."  
  
Natasha and Clint quickly shifted positions to guard each others' backs, knives appearing from nowhere Tony had yet to figure out. Steve held his shield out in front of him, and Tony...was left in the middle of Loki's spell with no suit. Shit. When Rogers yanked him back behind the strong shell of vibranium, Tony had the rare grace not to protest.  
  
"Two 'o clock," Clint barked, lashing out with his knife. A thick tendril of ivy was beginning to slither out of a crack in the ceiling. The vine itself was nearly as thick as Tony's thigh, with broad leaves that twisted and hissed like snakes. When Barton's knife hacked off a tendril, the monstrous thing shrieked and shot over their heads to coil around Thor. The god stayed perfectly still as it looped once, twice around his body.  
  
Thor didn't seem fazed by the sentient ivy, and Tony swore he caught the god petting the vine soothingly.  
  
"You wanna tear that thing in half, Thor?" Steve asked, eyeing it warily. Thor shook his head and instead carefully unwound it and laid it beside him on the ground. The ivy seemed mollified by his, idly growing at a slow crawl as it moved to investigate the others. Clint and Natasha were a little less trusting than Thor, jumping and dodging the plant's tendrils as it extended.  
  
"It doesn't seem to be attacking," Steve remarked. And, of course, that was the moment that one of the leaves brushed against the captains ankle and went absolutely beserk.  
  
The vine trembled violently, letting out a shriek that echoed down the supernaturally long hallway. All around the Avengers, new tendrils bursting out of the drywall to form in a roiling mass on the floor. Within seconds, the five were facing a seething carpet of attack-ivy that was threatening to encase the walls as well. While the vines didn't seem concerned with Thor, they were doing their best to worm their way around the four humans.  
  
"I dunno, seems to be attacking to me," Clint shot back conversationally. Between Steve's shield and the SHIELD agents' knives they were keeping the vines off of themselves, but they were slowly but surely being backed against the end of the hallway. "Here, let me try something."  
  
Everyone stared at the marksman as he gripped his knife between his teeth and crouched down among the leaves. There was the rattle of something metal, and Clint gave a grunt of effort as he struggled to pull something under the vines.  
  
"You're the only one this shit's not attacking," he said, biting down on a tendril that was threatening to worm its way into his mouth. "It doesn't care about keeping you away from the door, so where's it gotta be?"  
  
Realizing what Clint was trying to do, Thor knelt down beside him and plunged his arms into the tangle as well. With a frustrated roar the god finally tore a hole in the carpet of ivy to reveal an ornate bronzed doorhandle. Tony was just about to object to the thing (I didn't install that, you can't just let Loki live in my house, you have to let him redesign it too?) when Thor yanked the hidden door open, and everything tilted sideways.  
  
Tony felt reality stretch, his stomach churning as gravity abruptly twisted ninety degrees. The five of them collapsed in a pile as the hallway snapped back to its normal proportion. Thor was the first up, stepping through the doorway that was doing its best to look innocent, now located in the wall and free of ivy.  
  
"Tony, look."  
  
Steve whispered in Tony's ear, gently nudging him into a sitting position. When he saw what lay through the open door, he almost just gave up and laid back down.  
  
Everything that they had bought at the maternity store was piled on top of the bed, but that was only the beginning of it. The pillows were mere islands in the ocean of thick furs that were strewn all over the mattress. What looked to be bear and sheep skins (that Thor could not get at the Baby Gap, Tony knew that much) had been carefully draped on top of what looked to be the finest quality silk sheets Tony had ever seen.  
  
"Mmf..."  
  
One of the mounds of fur shifted, revealing a rumpled figure as it sat up and stretched.  
  
Loki was something carved out of metal and revenge. The god had perfectly slick hair befitting an evil mastermind, with barely any vulnerable flesh visible outside his ceremonial armor. Loki was larger than life with murder in his eyes.  
  
Loki was not this creature in Thor's bed, loose hair cascading down around his shoulders and clad only in a long green tunic.  
  
"My heart," Thor said gently, "I didn't realize you still slept."  
  
The other man yawned and pushed the hair out of his sleep filled eyes.  
  
"Keep calling me by those pet names, brother, and I'll be forced to cut your tongue out for my own sanity."  
  
Actually, no. Tony was pretty sure that was Loki now.  
  
"Speaking of tongue," he piped up, poking his head around the thunder god. "what the hell have you been doing with my deli meat you son of a bitch."  
  
Pregnancy must have been starting to wear on the god already; Loki looked downright shocked to see the mortals behind Thor. He spat out a hiss and pulled one of the wolf furs across his belly.  
  
"Thor, you dared to bring your pets here!? I would rather stay where I was than have them creeping over everything and sticking their noses into my room--"  
  
Thor rushed forward into the room and grabbed hold of Loki's arm with just a hint of panic. Who could blame him, after all the times he'd watched his brother slip away?  
  
"Brother, please understand," he urged. Loki pulled away to fix him with a suspicious glare, but allowed his brother to cradle the back of his head. "They will not come inside, but your hunger has been driving Starksson mad this past month."  
  
Loki broke into a grin at that, turning his malicious glare towards Tony. It was just as unsettling when it was paired with a smile, it seemed.  
  
"I would hope so. It was most amusing to hear where he'd attempted to hide it from you. Really, Thor, you should have taken the cake as well."  
  
"Thor, were you the one stealing from Tony?" Steve asked, leveling the god with a carefully neutral look. Thor had the grace to look ashamed, but Loki's smug glee detracted from it a great deal.  
  
"Loki's hunger has almost doubled, and one thing he could not get enough of was meat. It seemed harmless enough...I will pay you back in full, Tony."  
  
Loki cackled gleefully and Thor gave him a sheepish grin, head still hanging in a half-apology. Tony got the strange impression that he was seeing something that had repeated itself over the millennia.  
  
"See, Starksson?" Loki said, resting his sharp chin on Thor's shoulder. It was the most tactile Tony had ever seen the trickster, and it reminded him far too much of the way a cat marked its territory. "You come to me, while it was your dear friend Thor that was driving you to madness."  
  
"Yea, on your orders," Tony shot back.  
  
Loki just shrugged, accepting the accusation before turning his attention back to Thor.  
  
"Brother," he sighed, "I still wish to eat raw meat, or a maybe a still-beating heart. The child inside me needs something with some life left in it." Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Loki's gaze landed on Clint, and his grin widened. "He had a superb heart. I want it."  
  
God, Tony thought with a shudder, and he'd thought Loki couldn't get any creepier.  
  
Thor didn't even look surprised by the request. Tony was going to have to reevaluate him on the creep-o-meter as well.  
  
"No Loki," he admonished. "You may not eat my friends, nor any other mortal on this planet. If you need a heart, you may have mine."  
  
Loki huffed and flopped back on the bed, frustrated that his fun had been ruined.  
  
"No, your heart has grown far too soft to feed a growing king."  
  
Thor proved that he had no consideration for Tony’s fragile sanity as he laughed and pressed a kiss to Loki’s scowling lips. Loki then proved himself to be truly evil by returning it.  
  
“Fury’s going to shit a new helicarrier when he finds out about this,” Tony groaned, covering Steve’s eyes with one hand.  
  
“He already knows,” Nat replied as she picked a stray leaf of ivy out of Clint’s hair. “We’ve been keeping him up to date on the situation for a month.”  
  
Tony had had enough. He was going to go down to the damn deli himself, buy a nice, normal roast beef sandwich, and eat it at the table where no pregnant tricksters or smitten thunder gods could take it from him. Turning away from the terrifying scene that was unfolding inside Thor’s room, he grabbed Steve by the wrist and dragged him towards the stairs before Loki could pull an Inception on the hallway again.  He didn’t stop until he’d reached the oasis; the minibar, where he poured himself and the captain a stiff drink. Then another, and another.  
  
\-------------------------------------------  
  
“You know,” Tony slurred once the mental scarring had started to fade under the merciful haze of alcohol. “When I was a kid there were two male swans that lived at a lake we always used to visit. They were always a little frightening, but one day they decided they were going to make a nest and tried to kill everything that came near the damn thing.”  
  
“Swans are beautiful, but they’ve got a nasty temperament,” Steve agreed, throwing back another whiskey sour.  
  
“And now I’ve got a pair of them in my tower,” Tony lamented. He let his head fall onto the table with a dull thunk. “Killer gay swans.”  
  
Steve reached over and gently took Tony’s tumbler from his hands, and he gave a serious nod as he added:  
  
“Killer gay swans from outer space.”


End file.
